


i knew you were trevor when you walked in

by grif (thebadguyswin)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: "you're gonna have to tag height difference kink tbh", F/M, M/M, No RT AU, and they were ROOMMATES, oh my ggooodd they were roommates, there's some mushroom hate in here u have been warned, they move in together literally what more do you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-02-24 07:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadguyswin/pseuds/grif
Summary: The first time Jeremy saw him, it was in the lobby of his apartment building.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! don't let my relaxed grammar outside of the fic fool you! im very grammatically correct!
> 
> im dipping my toes back into the world of doolins for this lil thing im excited about. there will be more chapters (probably) and i may even end up going back over this chapter to clean things up a little but i craved that sweet feedback and validation! lmk how y'all's like this!

The first time Jeremy saw him, it was in the lobby of his apartment building. He’d only ventured downstairs to get his mail, expecting little more than brochures and pizza menus. But instead, he found Trevor.

“Found” maybe isn’t the most accurate term for what he did. “Walked right into him whilst scowling at a leaflet for a cleaning company and dropping all his letters” is closer to what happened. Actually, it’s exactly what happened.

If Jeremy had been paying closer attention, he would have seen Trevor standing near an empty reception desk, squinting at the notice board hanging on the wall behind the counter. He would have seen Trevor scuffing his navy blue off-brand converse-style sneakers, sucking on the cuffed sleeve of his grey sweater. Jeremy maybe would have even noticed him tugging the hem of his top down over his leggings, acceptably figure-hugging for his gym session earlier in the day, but now tight enough for Trevor to be self-conscious about.

What Jeremy did see was a shoddily put together leaflet for a family-run cleaning service, followed by, in very quick succession, a square of grey jersey material, the ceiling of the lobby, a flurry of paper as his mail exploded into the air above him, and finally, a confused but concerned face peering over him. This alarming slideshow of images culminated in a sharp pain in his rear and lower back as he collided with the laminate flooring.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” The stranger says, and offers out a hand to help him up.

Jeremy recognises his accent as distinctly not-Texan, and maybe midwestern. Jeremy was never very good at accents, but living in Austin for six months means he knows at least when someone is new in town. He takes the outstretched hand and scrambles to his feet, but remains a head and shoulders shorter than the new guy.

The stranger scuttles aound, bent over to scoop up the letters splayed out across the floor. “I was totally spaced, man. I’m sorry I was in your way.” He passes Jeremy's mail to him, hunching his shoulders and struggling to make eye contact.

“No, no dude.” Jeremy stutters, swallowing a lump in his throat. “My bad. I wasn’t looking where I was going at all. I’m a klutz.” Jeremy is used to having to crane his neck to talk to people, but fuck, this guy was taller than anyone he’d encountered for a while. _This dude is basically a chiseled god_ , Jeremy thinks.

“You’re okay though?” The guy frowns, and wiggles his fingers to the area behind Jeremy.

Jeremy pats his butt. “I’m gonna have a hell of a bruise in the morning, but I’ve had worse.” He shrugs.

The guy visibly relaxes. “Thank Christ.” He glances at the still empty reception desk, and sighs. “Hey, while you’re here, could you give me a hand?” Before Jeremy can even react, the guy reaches into one of his sleeves and retrieves his phone, pulling up a webpage. “I saw this ad online for some dude looking for a roommate. This is the address, but I don’t know what floor the apartment’s on. No one is at the counter so I don’t know who to ask… but…”

Jeremy peers at the stranger’s screen, and smirks at the oh-so familiar wording of the ad. “Yeah, I think I can help you out. Apartment 12 is just on the third floor, I can walk you up.”

“Oh, thank you! You’re a lifesaver. I was gonna ask if they knew if the guy’s in, but…” He starts, but Jeremy cuts him off.

“Oh, he’s in, don’t worry.”

The guy lets out a long sigh. “You’re relieving so much anxiety here. I’m Trevor, by the way. Thought you should know that if we’re potentially gonna be neighbours.”

“Jeremy.” He responds, and offers a hand to shake. Trevor accepts it. “This way.” Jeremy shoves his mail into the pocket of his jacket. “So, you been in Austin long?” He asks as they make their way up the stairs.

Trevor shakes his head. “Only been here three weeks or so, crashing on couches or at shady motels. I’ve been looking for somewhere affordable since I got here, then this place popped up and I had to give it a shot.”

“Yeah, I get ya. This place is affordable, as long as you share the rent.” Jeremy smirks as they near his floor.

“So you’ve got a roommate?” Trevor raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

“Of sorts.” Jeremy smiles. “Apartment 12, here we are.” Jeremy stops outside the door.

“Thanks, hopefully I can take it from here.” Trevor grins. All gleaming teeth and crinkled eyes.

Jeremy’s stomach lurches.

“I didn’t ask, what number are you?” Trevor asks, turning towards the door.

Before Trevor’s finger can reach the doorbell, Jeremy reaches into his other jacket pocket and takes out a keychain with slightly too many keyrings on it. He slides the key into the door of apartment 12 and unlatches it. “Twelve.” He purses his lips.

Trevor stares at the now open door and into the apartment beyond. “Oh.”

“Apartment tour?” Jeremy beckons towards his flat for Trevor to go in ahead of him.

“Yep.” Trevor nods. “Apartment tour. Of your apartment. Right.” He shakes his head, and steps past Jeremy..

A cloud of sweet something passes over Jeremy as Trevor walks past, the kind of smell you get when deodorant has been sprayed over perspiration; earthy but artificial. Jeremy laughs, trying to force it out of his nostrils.

Standing in the smaller space of Jeremy’s apartment, Trevor looks even taller. He peers around the dimly lit room, as Jeremy pulls open blinds and switches on lamps.

“Sorry about the mess.” Jeremy instinctively says, tossing his mail onto a side table. It’s only been a couple of days since he last vacuumed, there’s only one or two magazines on the coffee table, and the dirty dishes from his lunch in the sink, but he feels better for apologising. “I didn’t realise anyone would be replying to that ad today.”

“I should’ve called ahead or something, only I realised the address was near my gym and I thought I’d save myself the trip. It was inconsiderate, I’m sorry.”

“I said it’s cool, Trevor.” Jeremy smiles at himself using this guy’s name. _Trevor._ He likes the way it feels on his tongue. “Please, have a look around, ask any questions you want.” Jeremy needed a roommate as soon as possible, before paying two lots of rent took too much of a chunk out of his savings, and Trevor seems more than suitable.

Trevor nods, and turns his attentions back to Jeremy’s apartment. His shift in focus lets Jeremy take a good look at the man he might be living with for the foreseeable future. He’s tall, that much is clearly established. Lanky, too. His limbs are skinny and long, yet his shoulders are broad and sturdy. The leggings were an unusual choice to Jeremy, but considering the guy looked and smelled like he’d just been doing a thorough work out, he figured it wasn’t any of his business what Trevor wore while he exercised.

Trevor’s face fascinated Jeremy the most. Angular, high cheekbones, a pointed nose, dark eyebrows that could go from looking so stern, to so soft in under a second. Dark brown eyes under darker brown, thick hair, which gently flopped down over his forehead only to be combed back again almost immediately.

Jeremy felt very, very inadequate, very suddenly. Standing almost a foot shorter than Trevor, twice as wide, and with hair he knew would thin and recede eventually, the only thing he thought he had on Trevor was his ability to grow a beard in under two days. Jeremy decided not to take his jacket off while Trevor was still around, in a futile effort to hide his soft tummy for a little while longer.

“Seems pretty nice.” Trevor nods at his surroundings. “Decent size for the price, and nothing looks like it’s gonna fall apart.”

“Nothing’s broken in the couple years I’ve been here.” Jeremy affirms. “Well, the oven did once, but they’d fixed it by the next day.”

“Nothing wrong with a cheeky pizza delivery every once in a while.” Trevor laughs. “Although, I guess where you come from, you maybe have issues with the pizza here.”

Jeremy frowns. “Where I come from? You know I’m east coast?” He smiles.

“Yeah, of course. Definitely not from Texas, anyhow.” Trevor smiles again, and Jeremy’s intestines feel wobbly again. “Massachusetts, right?”

Jeremy nods. “I’m awful with accents, I guessed midwest for you. Ohio?”

“Indiana.”

“Right, got ya.”

They smile.

“So, which would be my room?” Trevor points at the doors which lead off into different rooms.

“Right, rooms.” Jeremy walks over to one and shoves it open. “Bathroom here, there’s a toilet down that hall, and a closet for coats and stuff. And this,” Jeremy walks to the adjacent room, “would be where you go.”

Trevor walks in without hesitation. He looks around the sparse room, empty save for a bed, a built in wardrobe, and a dresser. “Spacious, no weird smells, all good signs.”

“My last roommate was a bit of a neatfreak, so the place is in pretty good shape.” Jeremy explains.

“Sounds like a good guy to have around. Why’d he leave?” Trevor runs his finger across a dresser, nodding when he finds no dust streak.

“He moved in with his girlfriend.” Jeremy shrugs. “Good guy, great girl. They’re good friends, but just wanted to take their relationship to the next level.”

“What about you?” Trevor frowns, checking out the storage space in the wardrobe, and the view from his window.

“Not in a relationship. Not super into girls.” He answers honestly.

Trevor nods again, his nonplussed reaction serving as a great relief to Jeremy, who at least knows he’s not standing in a room with a fucking homophobe.

“Well, Jeremy,” he sighs and clasps his hands, “How do you wanna do this? Do I have any tests I need to pass to gain entry to your heart?” Trevor coos.

Jeremy snorts. This dude seems a little on the dramatic side. But he’s charmed by it, even if he finds it a smidge… gross.

“You smoke? Take drugs? Drink in excess? Have any allergies or dietary requirements? Offer blood sacrifices as peace offerings to Satan?” Jeremy runs off the list, leading the way from Michael’s… no, wait, _Trevor’s_ bedroom, back into the lounge..

“Tried it once and didn’t like it, no, only occasionally, I don’t do mushrooms, and only on the blood moon.” Trevor replies.

Jeremy flops into the sofa and cross his legs. “All good answers.” He indicates that Trevor should sit too.

“I’m also fairly neat, don’t smell _super_ bad, and have a stunning array of throw blankets and pillows which really breathe life into a space.” He adds, choosing the armchair opposite Jeremy’s TV set.

“ _I’m sold.”_ Jeremy leans forward and offers out his hand. “When can you move in?”

Trevor takes Jeremy’s hand in his own, sandwiching the smaller, rougher hand in his own pale, slender ones. “I have one night left at my motel, after that I’m practically homeless.”

Jeremy marvels at how their fingers intertwine as Trevor shakes his hand. “Do you drive?”

Trevor nods. “I’m parked out front.”

Jeremy shrugs. “Bring some of your stuff over this afternoon, if you want, then bring the rest over tomorrow. Landlord knew a newbie was coming soon enough, so I’ll see if she’s free tomorrow to set up your rent payments and give you a key.”

Trevor exhales deeply, and rests his hands on top of his head. “You can’t begin to understand how relieved I am right now. I thought I was gonna be slumming it for months.”

Jeremy chuckles. “Don’t worry, pal. You seem solid enough.There’s no point hanging around waiting for you to move in when there’s a perfectly decent room here you can sleep in and rent you can pay.” Jeremy pauses, sucking air through his teeth with a sharp hissing noise. “Little warning though, it isn’t just me you have to impress..”

“Oh really?” Trevor raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Jeremy leans back and puts his hands behind his head, “that you haven’t dealt with my _old_ roommate yet, and boy do you wanna start praying now that he approves of you.”

“I ain’t never had a girlfriend’s parent who hasn’t loved me on sight.” Trevor scoffs. “I think I can deal with an ex-roommate…”

It’s Jeremy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “You haven’t met Michael, though. Oh just you wait and see, Trevor… wait, dude.” Jeremy frowns. “What’s your surname?”

He snorts. “Collins. Trevor Collins.”

Jeremy smiles. “Okay, cool. Trevor Collins. I’m Jeremy Dooley.”

“Nice.” Trevor smiles and nods. “The Collins-Dooley household. Sounds nice.”

“Or Dooley-Collins, seeing as, y’know, I was here first.” He reasons.

“Collins-Dooley is alphabetical!” Trevor protests.

Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Fine, Collins-Dooley.”

“Oh, Jeremy Dooley.” Trevor sighs. “I can see this is the start of a beautiful… cohabitation.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this filler or is this just slowburn

Of course, Jeremy has a few reservations about moving in with a relative stranger on such short notice. Trevor could be an axe murderer, or have some kind of shady underground criminal past and be wanted for masterminding sixteen heists. But the most likely eventuality is that he’s just… some guy. That thought keeps Jeremy from worrying too much as Trevor unloads his last box from his car. 

“You good?” Jeremy asks, another two boxes in his arms as he turns to walk back into the apartment building. Trevor had only had three suitcases and four boxes in his motel room. He’d brought over all but these two boxes and one case the day before, and Jeremy applauded his organisation.

Trevor shifts the box in his hands so that the cardboard doesn’t cut into his fingers as much. “Yep, I’m good. One last three-flights-of-stairs to go!” He chuckles, and follows Jeremy into the building.

Outside their apartment door, Trevor balances the box on his hip to fish his new key out of his jeans pocket, and opens the door. He carries his box, containing, amongst other things, books, an alarm clock, and a small bedside lamp, through to his bedroom.

“Well, that’s everything!” Jeremy breathes a sigh of relief and puts his box on the kitchen counter. It contains the promised throws and cushions, so Jeremy sees little point in following Trevor.

Trevor emerges from his room empty handed. “Yeah! Thanks so much for helping out. It shouldn’t take me long to settle in. Do you… like…” Trevor hesitates. “Is this a neutral zone?” He indicates to the living room. “I can keep all my shit in my room, I was just wondering…”

“Dude,” Jeremy interrupts. “As long as it isn’t literal human shit, you can leave stuff in the living room. If it makes sense, you know.”

Trevor smiles. “Good, because this place needs cheering the fuck  _ up _ .”

Jeremy’s jaw drops. “How dare you!” He gasps. “What’s up with the place?”

Jeremy tries his best to sound indignant, only it’s kind of difficult when he has no idea whether or not his place is cheery or otherwise. He and Michael were perfectly fine with how the place was, this much is true, but as long as there was soda in the fridge and chips in the cupboard, they were fine sitting on the plump sofas and laughing at their own jokes. Jeremy wouldn’t know where to begin with interior design.

“It’s nothing serious.” Trevor reasons. “Sofa’s in pretty good shape, a little worn but nice in colour.” He studies the dark grey corner sofa that runs along one wall, and juts out to serve as a border between the living space and the dining table. “Dining table is a little small, but I can work with it.”

Jeremy frowns at the glass-topped table that had barely been used since he moved in. “Honestly, me and Michael used to just eat on the sofas.”

Trevor exhales. “Just because you don’t  _ use it,  _ doesn’t mean it can’t  _ look nice.”  _

With this mentality, Trevor sorts through his possessions and brings out an assortment of what he calls “home decor,” and what Jeremy calls “random shit.” Light blue blankets, or “throws,” are draped over the back of the sofa, cushions appear on chairs, and little ornaments of metallic fruit appear on shelves and cabinets in irregular patterns.

“I thought you didn’t like mushrooms?” Jeremy scowls at a trio of silver mushrooms in the centre of the coffee table. 

“Don’t hate me because you don’t get style.” Trevor blows a raspberry in Jeremy’s face. “Just trust me, okay? Anything you don’t like after a month, I’ll ditch.”

Jeremy pouts, but ultimately concedes. “Just no…. Vaginas or dicks or whatever anywhere, okay? Nude art is just plain weird.”

Trevor pauses, a cardboard poster tube in his hands, and blushes. “...Fine.”  He returns the poster tube to his room. He returns with a noticeboard and sticky hooks in his hands.

“What’s that for?” Jeremy frowns. “We have a notepad on the fridge if you wanna make a shopping list.”

Trevor rolls his eyes. “Noticeboards, Jeremy,” he begins, “are the  _ future. _ ” Jeremy doesn’t have time to protest before Trevor has the hooks pressed onto the clear wall by the front door, and the board hanging up. He pins the important items from Jeremy’s mail from yesterday onto it. “All you need is a noticeboard, and you can organise your whole life.”

“Come to think of it…” Jeremy goes to a drawer in the kitchen and fishes out takeaway menus, instruction pamphlets, and warranty information which he’d previously jammed out of the way. “I’m always rummaging through this crap tryna find shit I need.” They get pinned to the board. Wifi passwords, emergency phone numbers, Trevor’s calendar (“Because this boy is  _ too damned organised,”  _ thinks Jeremy), are pinned onto the convenient board.

Trevor takes a step back and tilts his head once they’re done. He ponders. “One last thing.” he says, almost wistfully. 

Jeremy watches as Trevor disappears back into his bedroom. He hears the unmistakable sound of someone rifling through a box of knick-knacks, and then he reappears through the wall, holding a small silver contraption. 

“Is that a polaroid camera?” Jeremy asks, bewildered. “I thought those things stopped being made in the ‘80s!”

Trevor tuts, “They came back in style a couple o’ years ago. Kinda gimmicky, but it has its uses every now and then.”

“Like when?” Jeremy frowns.

“Like now.” Trevor spins around and holds the camera up in front of them both. “Say cheese!” He says in a sing-song voice.

Jeremy can’t help but oblige, Trevor’s glee too infectious to resist. A click, a camera flash, and a whirr as the camera begins to spit out a small rectangle of shiny paper. He pinches the corner and shakes it gently.

Jeremy’s eyes follow Trevor’s hand. “Did we just take our first roommate selfie?” 

“You know it.” Trevor squints at the image slowly appearing on the paper. “Awh, damn! We look cute!” He exclaims, holding it out for Jeremy to see.

Jeremy grins at the picture. He looks like he’s standing further away from Trevor than he actually is, what with the height difference, but his head and torso is still visible . Trevor takes up the other side of the photo, his face adopting a slight pout rather than an actual smile. 

“It looks great! You even got my best side.” Jeremy laughs and hands the polaroid back.

Trevor takes it and pins it in the center of the noticeboard. “See! Now if we get robbed, the burglars will know who they’re stealing from!”

“A nice touch.” Jeremy nods.

“I thought so.” 

They smile at their first photo together, and Jeremy feels at ease with this new living arrangement. He had no idea what kind of person would end up replacing Michael. They could have been someone who never associated themselves with him beyond rent payments and maintenance calls. They might have been someone whose personality clashed awfully with Jeremy. But here, standing with Trevor, Jeremy felt completely fine with this choice in roommate. Sure, maybe it’ll turn out that Trevor likes exclusively weird Swedish crime dramas with subtitles and no action sequences. Maybe Trevor never remembers to pick up toilet roll, or leaves dirty socks all over the living room. There were a lot of possibilities about Trevor which Jeremy has no idea about, but for some reason, and a reason Jeremy just couldn’t pin down yet, he thinks he might just about be able to deal with them.

Jeremy looks over to Trevor, who still seems to be fixated on the noticeboard. “You all done unpacking your shit in your room?”

Trevor blinks, shaking his head slightly as though he were snapping out of a trance. “Uh, yeah. I mean, no, not at all.” He chuckles.

“Better hop to it, mister.” Jeremy scolds him gently. “You need some place to sleep tonight, right?”

“Alright, alright.” Trevor waves his hands dismissively. “I’m all done with this place anyway.”

Jeremy inspects Trevor’s handiwork. He hates to admit it, and he doesn’t entirely understand why this is the case, but it does look better. He raises his eyebrows. “It’s okay, I guess.” 

“Okay?” Trevor pouts. “Just okay?”

“It’s…. Very okay.” Jeremy concedes. “It might even be a little bit good.”

“You’re gonna be a tough one to please, ain’t ya?” Trevor folds his arms accusingly.

Jeremy grins. “Not in the slightest. Now, go. Make a bedroom look like a bedroom instead of a hotel room.” He shoos Trevor towards his room.

“I’m going already!” Trevor calls over his shoulder, scurrying away. “After I’m done, you wanna go grab some food?”

Jeremy shrugs. “Sure, I could eat.”

“Great.” Trevor smiles. “It’s gonna be great.” He shuts the door.

_ Maybe I shoulda offered to help him unpack,  _ Jeremy thinks.  _ Nah, dude might have private stuff in there. Who the fuck am I to judge? _

He sits on the sofa, shifting the newly placed cushions around until they support his back a little better. God damn, is it comfy. He switches on the TV in the corner of the room and flicks through channels, not expecting anything to catch his eye. TV isn’t really his thing.

A vibration against his thigh, and a faint  _ bzzzt _ , stop Jeremy from falling into a stupor in front of the television. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it.

_ jersey shore _ :   
Yo. Food. Tonight. 

Jeremy rolls his eyes, and taps the call button next to Michael’s name. His phone doesn’t complete a full ring before he answers.

“ _ Jeremy boy!”  _ Michael’s voice reverberates from the speaker. “ _ What the fuck is up!” _

“Mikey!” Jeremy feels his accent getting stronger just from the hint of Michael’s New Jersey accent. “What’s this about food?”

“ _ Well, you know J, sometimes people get this feeling in their tummy, like a growling feeling? And that means the peoples need food…”  _

Jeremy snorts. “Thank Christ you can give me the biology lesson, Michael. Do you wanna get some fuckin’ food tonight or not?”

“ _ I thought you’d never ask.” _

“Alright, Michael. Shall we say seven outside your place?”

_ “We’ll come to you. You’re closer to this barbecue place Lindsay wants to try, so we’ll give you a ride over.” _

“You spoil me.” Jeremy croons down the phone. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” Jeremy pauses, wondering if now is the time to drop in his news.  _ Fuck it, _ he thinks, “Oh! Can my new roommate come?”

“ _ ROOMMATE?”  _ Jeremy has to hold his phone a little way away from his ears for that outburst. “ _ Since when is there a new person in your life? What are they like? Who are they? Why am I only hearing about this now?” _

“Calm down Michael, he just moved in!” Jeremy has to stifle his giggles. “You’re the first to know. His name is Trevor and he seems okay so far.”

“ _ Okay, I’ll let it slide. For now. Bring him along. We need to vet him.” _

“That you can, Michael. That you can.” 

“ _ Shit, gotta go, Lindsay just got back so she will already have made a mess of something I have to clean up. See ya.”  _ Michael hangs up with as much ceremony as he puts into pretty much everything, and his voice is replaced by a monotone beep.

Jeremy gets to his feet, and goes immediately to Trevor’s door. He knocked quickly, two sharp taps against the wood. “Trevor buddy?”

The door creaks open. “Y’hello?” His face appears through the crack.

“You know food tonight? How do you feel about barbecue?” Jeremy leans against the doorframe.

“Sounds great!” Trevor smiles, pushing his fringe back over his head with his fingers.

“Okay cool.” Jeremy smirks. “How do you feel about meeting the old roommate?”

Trevor pouts. “Confident?”

Jeremy nods. “Better try and keep it that way, pal.”

Trevor sighs, nods in agreement, and closes the door.

Jeremy just laughs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to skelefrog and the tiny boy

Trevor’s still fiddling with the top button of his shirt when a buzz emanates from the speaker grill by the door.

“Fuck. Shit. Balls.” Jeremy curses, hopping over to the sound, pulling a sock onto his foot. “Jesus Chri-” He stumbles to the wall and presses a red button. “Hey what’s up.” He says into the speaker, tugging the sock past his heel.

“ _ Let us the fuck in _ .” The disgruntled voice replies. 

Jeremy sees Trevor’s eyes widen. “Another from the east coast?” 

Jeremy presses a key symbol on the panel, unlocking the door to the apartment complex. “Yeah, Michael’s from New Jersey.” He pulls his other sock on, still refusing to sit down to do this. “Did you think he was local?”

Trevor shrugs. “I don’t know what I expected. Did you know each other before you lived together?” 

“Nah.” Jeremy answers, pushing his feet into old trainers from beside the front door without bothering to untie the laces. He wiggles his foot until it slides in completely. “Just found each other by accident, kinda. We worked in the same office and wanted to live somewhere nicer, so we came to an agreement.”

“Ok, okay. Cool.” Trevor turns his attention back to his top button, fastening it, unfastening it, shaking his head, and sighing in a seemingly never ending cycle.

“Dude.” Jeremy sighs. “Are you having some problems with your shirt there, buddy?”

Trevor scowls. “Yes or no?” He gestures to the problematic top button.

Jeremy strides over to Trevor, brow furrowed. He has to stand on his tip-toes  _ slightly  _ to get a proper look at Trevor’s collar. His fingers work quickly to fasten the button, then he steps back. “Fastened.” He decides, smiling when he sees Trevor’s face relax a little. “You look good. Dapper. Smart. Or whatever.” He wrinkles his nose and bites his cheek to stop himself giggling.

A bang at the door. “Yo, open the fuck up.” A female voice this time.

Jeremy rolls his eyes. “Lindsay. I know you don’t know Michael and his girlfriend like, at all, but I think you just got your first clue as to why they do so well together.”

Trevor swallows. “Right.” 

Jeremy only has to unlatch the door for the person on the other side to shove it open so hard, it shudders on its hinges. 

“LLLLLLIIIITTTTLLLEE JJJAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY.” 

Michael’s voice is louder than Trevor could have ever expected, and Jeremy sees his shoulders tense at the sudden outburst. He doesn't have time to offer any reassurance, though, as Michael’s arms are already wrapped around Jeremy’s neck and pulling him in for a tight hug.

“Jeremy, you beautiful son of a bitch.” A woman follows Michael into the room. She’s about the same height, dyed blonde hair with an inch and a half of roots on show combed back into a ponytail. Her dress is loose fitting and flowy, she has sunglasses balanced on top of her head, and the biggest smile anyone could ever muster on her face. In most ways, from decibel to expression, she is the exact opposite of Michael.

Jeremy huffs from within Michael’s grasp. “Hey, Lindsay.” He wriggles free of the vice-like grip and straightens his clothes. “Uh, I guess you could figure this out for yourselves, but this,” Jeremy steps to one side and presents Trevor to them, “is the new roommate.”

Lindsay’s smile grows impossible wider, and she steps towards Trevor. “Hey! Lindsay. That’s me.” She grins, holding her hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you!”

Trevor smiles back, accepting her hand. “Trevor. Collins. New roommate. But you know that already.” He stutters, and feels his cheeks grow hot.

Michael has yet to move from beside Jeremy, and is looking Trevor up and down with an intensity usually reserved for people inspecting potential new cars. 

Trevor is the first to break the ice. “You must be Michael.” He holds his hand out to Michael, just as Lindsay had to him, and hopes. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Michael half smirks, half squints at Trevor. “All terrible things, I assume.” Michael reaches forward and grasps Trevor’s hand. His palm is cool and tough, much tougher than Trevor’s doughy hands. 

“Oh, undoubtedly.” Trevor narrows his eyes, preparing himself for whatever Michael wants to throw at him. “It’ll take a lot for me to earn my rightful place as worst imaginable roommate after you.”

Michael winks. “I’m sure I could give you some pointers.” He chuckles, then tilts his head, a mischievous grin remaining. “So… How tall are you, anyway?”

“Uh...Wha… Uh…” Trevor is caught off guard. “I’m… 6’2…”

“Wow.” Michael raises his eyebrows and leans back on his heels. “That’s like a full foot taller than Lil J.”

Trevor swallows. “I… I mean, I… Not quite....”

“Damn, you’re gonna be able to clean all the top shelves no problem, and reach everything in the grocery store…" Michael inhales sharply. "Jeremy’s gonna  _ love  _ having you around.” 

“Alright, alright.” Jeremy interrupts. “I get it, I’m short and Trevor’s  _ super  _ tall. But if you don’t mind, I’m fucking hungry.”

“I mean,” Trevor begins quietly, “Jeremy’s not that short, and I’m a little taller sure but-”

“Yeah guys.” Lindsay butts in, lowering her sunglasses over her eyes. “Bitches gotta eat, know what I’m saying?” 

“Cool with me.” Michael shrugs. “So Trevor, Trevor Collins. Trey-Co. What kind of food are you after?”

Trevor frowns, then pouts. “I guess… I’ve heard Austin is pretty good for barbecue? Not even really sure what that means, but I think I’d like to give it a shot.”

Michael nods slowly and approvingly, and Lindsay lets out an unnecessarily high  _ whoop.  _

“You’re okay, kid.” Michael smiles. “You’re okay.”

Lindsay leads the way out of the apartment, followed by her boyfriend. Jeremy grabs his keys off the dresser and indicates to Trevor that he should leave before him. As Trevor passes, Jeremy lets out an audible sigh of relief.

“Am I… Am I doing well?” Trevor whispers as his roommate locks up. 

Jeremy checks the hallway to see Michael and Lindsay waiting by the door to the stairwell. “Well.” He grunts, yanking the key from the lock. “You ain’t dead yet.”

“ _ Yet?!”  _ Trevor glances in the direction of Michael, his eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

Jeremy chuckles. “You’re doing fine. Michael just fucks around. If he didn’t like you, you’d know.” Jeremy turns on his heel to walk down the corridor.

Trevor gulps. “I don’t feel  _ especially _ liked.”

“Do you think he’s indifferent to you?” Jeremy asks.

“He definitely at least has an opinion on me.”

Jeremy shrugs, “Then he likes you.”

“How the fuck does that make any sense?” Trevor panics, knowing that soon they’ll be in earshot of Michael and Lindsay.

“Trust me, Treyco, if he feels anything towards you, he likes you. It’s how he works.” Jeremy pats the small of his back and tries his best to reassure him with a smile. 

“‘Treyco’? Is this a thing now?” Trevor laughs as they catch up with the others. 

Michael hears this. “Damn right it is, Treycs. If you’re gonna kick it with us, you gotta have some kind of dumbass nickname.” He leads the way into the stairwell and down the stairs.

“So everyone has a, uh, _dumbass nickname_?” Trevor frowns.

Their feet make pitter-patter rain noises as they go down the stairs.

“Of course. Lil J, you know." Jeremy gives a small wave of recognition as Michael mentions him. "I get Mikey… Mikey-boy... ‘Jersey’ when Jeremy’s feeling territorial…” Michael shrugs and pushes the door open into the lobby. Everyone shuffles through after him, holding the door open for one and other. 

“What about you?” Trevor nods to Lindsay. “You part of this club?”

Lindsay tutts, dusting off a stray thread from her dress. “Me? Boy, you can’t improve upon perfection.” She scoffs.

Michael rolls his eyes. “And that’s why you’re Lil Tugg.” He mocks, and immediately has to dodge a swipe from Lindsay. 

“Children!” Jeremy scolds. “Calm down, or no dinner for either of you.”

Lindsay and Michael don fake pouts. “Sorry, dad.” They whine in unison. 

Jeremy scowls and Trevor laughs, and all four of them are at ease in each other’s company. They emerge from the apartment building into the cooling evening air. 

“Aight,” Lindsay shakes her head. Goosebumps appear on her bare arms from the temperature drop, and she rubs them briefly to warm them up a little.  “I’ll drive.” She fishes car keys out of Michael’s pocket and unlocks a car parked at the front of the building.

“Shotgun!” Jeremy calls immediately, raising his hand and sliding across the bonnet to reach the passenger side door.

“Motherfucker.” Trevor and Michael say in sync. 

Michael glances at Trevor, making eye contact, and smiles. “So, barbecue?” Michael walks around the the other side of the car to open the back door there.

Trevor grins at him from across the car roof. “Barbecue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway does this tweet mean Trevor knows of this fic's existence? probably not but it's nice to imagine 
> 
> https://twitter.com/_TrevorC/status/956335670598840321


End file.
